Arizona falls under Utah

We drove through part of the night (and past the Petrified Forest National Park and Wilson, AZ) and arrived at the Grand Canyon National Park in the pitch-black darkness. We found a nice park lodge that was still open and went to visit it in order to see a map of the area. The lodge was the perfect balance between folk art, craft and mountain man aesthetics. The large wooden furniture and human sized fireplace harmonized nicely next to the brightly colored doors and wall. We walked out on a patio and the winds felt strong and cold. After our eyes adjusted to the darkness we saw the massiveness before us. This canyon is grand! Energized from the sight we just saw and cold from the bitter weather we ran back into the lodge, through the brilliantly colored doors and reviewed the map.

Lodge at Grand Canyon

We camped in the van at first place we saw available. Waking in the morning to our fellow campers, tucked into their RV, probably making breakfast with the loudest industrial-strength generator known to

Us, Grand Canyon

man. It could wake the dead. We too made some food, turned up the stereo and proceeded to fending off the mobs of crows attempting to steal from us. After we went to take a light walk around the canyon in daylight. It is really beautiful but it was too much of a time commitment to actually hike beyond the rim. It was a mule, multi-day sort of a trip. We decided to shower then take off for Zion in Southern Utah. After a nice shower, as we sat in the parking lot another VW pulled up next to Rosie. It was a newer model VW Westfalia, painted with a really cool “Grateful Dead meets nature” scene. Inside Kaya the VW van, was Lucy, a sweet medium sized, black dog. And also her people, Francois and Lisa. We said hi, and James and Francois chatted about VW’s, New Hampshire, Vermont and VW culture. After awhile we took off for Zion.

Kaya, '89 VW Westfalia

On the way we were passing through Navajo land. We stopped at a collective, roadside storefront. A few local artisans were selling jewelry and pottery. This mostly consisted of juniper berry necklaces, dream catchers, sand-cast silver or tufa-cast silver, horsehair pottery and various types of bead work. We pick a few things up.

The Painted Desert, AZ

As we drove we were using our new GPS, please keep in mind we are in the Painted Desert, with rolling mountains and nothing “urban” for miles. We start to get hungry and there is nothing; no signs, no gas, nothing. Eventually we see a few signs indicating 20 miles off our track, a town called Tuba City. And no, we did not see a single Tuba. We drive into Tuba City, ate food and then proceeded to use the GPS to get back to the interstate we were on. We ended up on a road that was not made for 1980’s vans like ours. It was a dirt and rock path and it zig-zagged down a large hill, past the packs of dogs playing, ponies in small corrals and mobile homes. I guess GPS does not always indicate things like dirt roads vs. paved roads?

The landscape between the Grand Canyon and Zion slowly changed before our eyes. The red mountains turned into golden colors and the plants became more sparse on the landscape but gradually taller and brighter in color. The mountains had bands of earthy colors, like a stack of bracelets. We saw the huge Glen Canyon Dam, power stations and crazy power lines in Arizona, all set against the sun setting on the horizon before we reached Utah.

Landscape of No. Arizona

We pulled into Zion National Park, into Watchman’s Camp. In the dark we spotted Kaya, (the VW we met in the Grand Canyon) parked a few feet away from us. We stopped in to say hi and share some nice wine and cheese. We are very glad we had a chance to meet some nice people on the road. In the morning we went on a short hike, our bodies are sore from sitting for so long in the car.

Hello Zion National Park!

Noon at Zion

Clouds move quickly, Zion

Dusk sets in, Zion

New Mexico

Albuquerque looked really nice and we arrived just in time for dinner. After driving around University of New Mexico (UNM) we came upon the Frontier Restaurant (Thanks Pete). It was some of the best, classic, nostalgic food Shannon has ever had! The green chili and the red chili were superb and the vegetarian tortilla soup was worth another trip back to New Mexico.

View from inside Rosie

After stuffing our faces we prepared for our morning adventure to Taos, after a large snowfall so James could snowboard. The long, snow dusted, winding roads slowly became more rural and the snow became more frequent. The landscape was interesting and reminded us of Wyoming, it seemed flat for a while with a slow incline and then BOOM- huge, vertical mountains full of snow that seemed unreal. On the

James after Snowboarding Taos

way up to the mountains we passed a few American Indian reservations. Some had creative; make shift or alterna-buildings where someone had taken the time to stack random objects to make walls and a ceiling; other buildings appeared more modular and standard in design. People were selling the “best” local green chili or coffee with fry bread on the side of the road in what seemed pretty remote locations. We sometimes saw the overcrowded cemeteries on the side of the road by the large pile of fake flowers. At one point we were pulled over by a police officer and informed that almost all electricity between Santa Fe and Colorado was out due to an accident, therefore there would be no stoplights and we had to be safe. Accidents began to pile up all around us as New Mexicans struggled to adapt to the lack of streetlights. When we got to Taos, James got a recycled lift ticket at Taos Ski Valley and had a chance to snowboard in powder for a few hours. It was similar to Tahoe but the snow was cold enough to keep the powder consistent throughout the day, making for some of the best early season snowboarding James has ever done. Shannon at this time worked on something or other. We left feeling pretty accomplished in the day. As we descended the Taos Mountains the warm sun that cradled us through the day disappeared and we began to get cold.

Moon over Taos

We eventually made it to Santa Fe; cranky, tired, hungry and shivering. We found a hotel and rested. The next day we went to the historic square in Santa Fe and began to window-shop. Santa Fe felt like two different cities merged together. One was fancy, a bit pretentious and yuppy and the other was traditional,

Beadwork at IAIA

western, relaxed and hippy. All in all it felt awkward. The art we saw in Santa Fe however was beautiful. Some of the traditional arts included Navajo hand woven rugs, Navajo and Zuni jewelry, various forms of pottery including horsehair ceramics and pawnshop jewelry. Unfortunately Santa Fe was also very expensive and since most tourists visit and want a piece of jewelry or a bolo tie, the price can be steep. A lot of New Yorkers seemed to like to visit Santa Fe, we saw quite a few. We went to the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) to see one of Shannon’s favorite artists, Fritz Scholder. The exhibition was a retrospective, Scholder unfortunately died in 2005. It was a really nice, comprehensive exhibition showing various aspects of his career. Shannon particularly likes his 1970’s lithographs and they had quite a few on display as well as for sale.

At this point we are starting to get tired of traveling but it should only be a few days left before we are back in California. We are tired of camping in the cold, or the impersonal hotels with strangers. Greasy foods and lack of exercise has caused us to both gain some weight. <sigh> There is always time for exercise tomorrow.

We are now off to the Grand Canyon in Arizona!

Santa Fe

Road to Taos, red soil instead of salt

OK -> TX -> NM

We got to Oklahoma City and didn’t stop. It just did not look any different they Sacramento and we had big plans for other places and not enough time. Outside of Oklahoma City the landscape began to change. It started to look like a desert with an abundance of low-lying bushes and rolling hills.

Buffalo at Cherokee Trading Post

We started to see billboards advertising “Cherokee Nation” gift shops featuring an American Indian theme. For some 200 hundred miles these shops would start advertising. We stopped at one called Cherokee Trading Post. They sold mostly overpriced crap, but it was pretty cool crap. We saw one, dead coyote after dead coyote on the sides of the road here, around 10 of them in total. Casinos sprung up like oasis, all American Indian themed but in a very non-authentic way much like things they were selling. Polar fleece, Native American inspired printed jackets made in China

We crossed through Northern Texas, nothing interesting there besides the

Amarillo, TX: Free 72oz Steak

stares we received. Fast food seemed to be the main event in Amarillo, TX (and plenty of obese people to concrete this theory). Shannon restrained from yelling at a teenaged girl that appeared to have never learned manners. At some we point passed Texas we stumbled on old route 66. This was the awkward, non-tourist part of route 66, it held up the skeletons of legends and dreams lost. Old rusted, 50’s signs, boarded up or sometimes even ripped open hotels. Older, well-worn, cowboy-types seemed to be in abundance.

Also in Amarillo, TX

We stopped in Tucumcari, a small town in New Mexico, near the boarder of Texas. Most of the kitschy stuff was still intact but closed down. In the historic downtown, you could find the Tucumcari Museum. It was the ultimate small town tribute museum. We ate a nice meal at a local diner named Rubee’s where we discovered the yummy green chili New Mexicans seem to love so much. It seems to be a roasted green chili that is chopped up into everything. It’s really good!

Tucumcari hotel, route 66

The harsh winds ripped across us, leaving us feeling violated. Each store we entered, doors would continuously open and bang shut like a swinging saloon door. Sand storms seemed to be normal here? The winds were so strong and our Van is not aerodynamic, more like a moving refrigerator. We were going against the wind and moving no faster then 30 miles per hour, slowly inclining towards Albuquerque. What should have taken one hour took us almost all day.

Arkansas: ozark oxygen sensor

We drove through small town after small town and gas station after gas station. The roadside landscape of Arkansas featured cragged rocks and awkward trees and grass forcing there way through rock. We saw multiple prison buses pass us in the night drive. The gas marts in Arkansas were fascinating, we noticed the local people seemed to look very much the same. Tall, thin, medium length dirty blond hair and with narrow deer-like faces. These gas marts sold homemade “raw” peanuts in paper bags and strange gifts only one can find in a gas mart featuring the words “Ozark County” or “Welcome to the Ozarks”. They also sold camo, hunting clothes and many things with the angry looking, cartoon, razorback pig on them (we figured this is the local college team of some sort). Gas had hit a new low here at $1.47 a gallon.

As we drove a warning light came on the dashboard. It was the oxygen sensor. We were stopped on the side of the highway, feet away from the exit featuring the Louisiana Purchase State Park. James fiddled with car things as Shannon sat around looking lost. James began a series of phone calls trying to get advice. Eventually James’s friend Ben called to let us know it was an automated light because we just made 60,000 miles. He told James how to reset the light. Such relief! Arkansas is not a place we would be excited to be stuck in, thanks you Ben! Days later, flash floods and tornado warnings for this region. We wish the best for everyone living in this area.

Graceland

“I’m going to Graceland. Memphis, Tennessee. I’m going to Graceland… I have reason to believe we all will be received at Graceland.” – Paul Simon

Memphis here we come! We drove for a while through Alabama. Stopping at a small town with no name and visiting a gas mart. This was unlike any other gas mart we had visited. They sold whole, large slabs of bacon (covered in a thin layer of blue mold), fatty ham legs, “rat cheese” and jars pickled quailed eggs as well as the standards like energy drinks, Doritos and soda. As we drove through the dark of night we passed industrial park after industrial park. Small flames, tiny blinking lights, menacing clouds of steam and the silhouetted pipe work were the only visible shapes in the total blackness in front of us, mile after mile.

Intense sunset somewhere in Alabama

 

Sunset light bouncing off the gravestones, Alabama

We arrived in Memphis cold. We stumbled on the Beal Street in search of warmth. Miss Polly’s Soul Café was the first seen affordable option. James wolfed down fried chicken with jalapeño cornbread and Shannon ate the fried green tomatoes and fried dill pickle chips. The spices and breading for everything tasted the same and they probably all shared the same hot oil bath. Shannon left ill, too many fried dill pickle chips will do that. We debated what chicken gizzards were with the locals, Shannon says it is part of the throat where rocks are broken down in birds, James says it’s the liver. We learned from an airbrushed table tribute to Sam Cooke (in the dining room at Miss Polly’s also) that he died from a gunshot wound by a desk clerk in a hotel. He was with a lady and he got “rough” and the woman left and stole his pants in revenge. Sam got mad, ran down stairs and started yelling and attacking the hotel desk clerk. She then shot him in self-defense. Who knew? RIP Sam Cooke.

We woke in Memphis, in the van needing to go to a bathroom. On Elvis Presley Blvd rests fast food restaurant after fast food restaurant. The nearest one was Burger King. I brought in my bag and brushed my teeth and hair in the bathroom. It is weird. Down here in the South, mom & pop restaurants’ food is really greasy, the menus do not vary and everyone is really fat. Taco Bell would be considered “ethnic” food and McDonalds is actually considered a real restaurant not just another fast food place. It’s the same crap they sell in California, but it is taken more seriously here, we think because of the lack of dining options. After cleaning up we went to Graceland.

The Graceland visit felt a little like a religious experience. We came to take this road trip across America in search to find out what is the real America (and our place in this country) and Graceland had some secrets to share with us. We were both skeptical about Graceland because it was pricey and out of the way, but we agreed at the end it was well worth all of the effort. Elvis Presley was the American dream. And he still is for many Americans. His home is a tribute to the tacky, was this the dream we were looking for? Not kitschy in a deliberate way but in the most sincere form. Like in a lost time or place when mirrored ceilings and shag rugs were a pure expression of class and status. We have all fallen from grace now and then, we all have our fifteen minutes of fame but only a chosen few will live on forever (cue the cheesy music).

The Graceland Den, it had 3 TVs.

 

Priscilla with Lisa Marie

Lynchburg, Tenn.

We arrived in Lychburg hungry and showed up at Mary BoBo’s Boarding House in historic downtown. It was confusing to us when we entered. Some ten people were sitting altogether in individual, private rooms eating the most beautiful smelling food. A waitress pushed pass us with a basket full of tawny colored fried okra and shut the door of one of the dining rooms behind her. We wanted inside too. We found someone that explained that Mary BoBo’s was by reservation only and they were booked until 3pm. Shannon sadly looked at James, who looked like his heart just dropped.  Instead we ate at a local pizza place/ice cream parlor, it was pretty bad pizza.

Downtown historic Lynchburg, Tenn.

It turns out that the Jack Daniels Distillery is owned by the same alcohol distributor as the Woodford Reserve Distillery (which we previously visited in Kentucky). The main building of Jack Daniels is a bluish grey and squatty building with oval shaped Victorian-looking glass in the front and porches with rocking chairs.

Ron, our Jack Daniel's tour guide

The trees and vines surrounding the distillery are covered in a black film, which we later learned is a black mold that is always found surrounding distilleries. It looks really creepy, looking a lot like the outside of the haunted house ride in Disneyland. Inside we watched the tour movie and then took a short drive to the place where they make their own charcoal from sugar maple and they hire coopers to make their own sugar maple barrels. Unlike bourbon, Jack Daniels “mellows” its alcohol in this charcoal through a slow drip process. We saw the sour mash- it smelled like nasty yeast, we saw the natural spring for the special limestone water, the old bottling facilities, the storage for aging the barrels, we learned about the various types of whiskeys and the differences. I am glad we had a chance to visit Woodford Reserve before stopping by Jack Daniels because I can’t help thinking about how different they were. Did you know Jack Daniels is the largest whiskey producer in the world? 

 

Eerie Jack Daniel's Distillery

Shadows of a distillery

Nashville, Tenn.

We arrive in Nashville late at night and slept in the parking lot of the Grand Ole Opry. Shannon always imagined the Grand Ole Opry to be a music hall in the middle of a bustling wooden/pioneer styled marketplace with patios and people in rocking chairs playing mandolins and fiddles. It is basically nothing like that.

 

Gibson

A corporation bought up the Grand Ole Opry and a few other “sister” theatres and then placed a massive hotel and mall around them. This makes up the Opry Mills Plaza. We slept among the performer’s buses, off to the side and used the mall for our bathroom needs. This mall is huge and includes a Gibson instruments repair shop for banjos (We later saw the big Gibson Factory in Memphis) In the middle space in this mall is lined with many types of massage chairs and beds. We took advantage of the $1 massage chair since our van needs to start being nicer to our backs and necks.

 

We woke starving. After struggling to get our bearings, we began to drive towards the beginning of the Nachez Trance Parkway to the home of the famed Loveless Café. The Loveless Café was a motel turned mini mall but in the center lies the best homemade biscuits and jam known to either of us. James ate the local fare, Ham with “red eye gravy”, bacon, eggs, biscuits with sausage gravy and a cheesy hash browns casserole. Shannon ate cheese grits with biscuits and eggs. We left Loveless stuffed like we would never have to eat again, sadly never even trying the homemade pies and banana cream pudding. James just barely survived the meal. Three types of pork and two types of gravy might be too much?

We drove into Nashville and set up camp for a few days so we could rest in a hotel and have a proper shower and bed. The feeling of clean caused immeasurable happiness.

We went downtown and found Hatch Show Print, a locally owned letterpress. The letterpress poster collection was amazing. All the things we love to see on posters like Dolly Parton, circus advertising, magicians, old western movie stills, farm animals, cats, cooking advice and ect. They had two large cats in the print shop, one of which looked uncannily familiar like the big, orange, tabby Dante (but with some white fur on him too). The ladies in the print shop eagerly told us about a place called Tinker Town in New Mexico. We hope we have a chance to see it! Thank you Hatch!!!

Hatch Show Print

Some of the other stores near Hatch Show Print included Ernest Tubb’s record shop and another, way cooler shop called Lawrence record shop. These reminded us of when we were kids, growing up in the ‘80’s and some of the mom & pop record shops that would sell the best kitschy gifts. Like the dusty, old, out dated, has-been celebs t-shirts that were in small edition because nobody bought them, posters of your newest hero(s), memorabilia of the 50 states or mugs with slightly offensive pictures on them. It was a time warp to a different time and place. It’s great to know some small stores with attitude can survive.

From the highway in Nashville you can see the little Scottish man and the banner sized sign for Frugal MacDoogal. It is a beverage superstore much like BevMo & they offered many types of everything drinkable. The thing is, James and Shannon are geeks at heart and really enjoy finding and learning about the obscure or the artisan. Frugal MacDoogal taught us more about the local beverage, whiskey. In California, whiskey is just a drink and it has various brands and prices but we really didn’t understand. From these travels we have learned that Whiskey is much like wine, varying in quality, textures, flavor and value. Whiskey prompted a trip to Lychburg, Tenn. to visit the historic Jack Daniels Distillery.

James w/ a golden Jack Daniel's

Tubb's Records

Kentucky Goodwill

We stopped for gas (now at $1.52 per gallon) and came across the biggest Goodwill I have ever seen. In hopes of good shopping we decided to go in. WOW. Things were cheap, this was nothing like the high-end Haight Street thrift shops in San Francisco but also the clothes were not as interesting. I saw some of the more offensive clothes I have ever seen like the homemade XXL t-shirt with 100+ pictures of black men in jail with some offensive text about black people in jail or the t-shirt proudly showing the USA bombings on Iraq. Grated only a small handful of shirts here were this offensive, but it is still shocking to see that at some point someone wore these clothes. James found some original concert tees from the 1980’s for the Grateful Dead and Motley Crew. Shannon found a original Olga Cassini, vintage 100% silk shell with 2 types on sequins, small silver stars and fat black sequins, it looks like something a ‘80’s Cher would have wore in a music video. Hopefully these treasures will pay off on eBay. As we left the Goodwill, the most beat up car we have ever seen was parked in front. The old ‘80’s Oldsmoblie in deeply etched rust and faded blue colors, the front hood was mangled, the muffler and exhaust pipe dragged, the door refused to stay closed because the last accident this car endured really cause damage. It felt like a warning message for our travels further into the South. You are far away from home, tread lightly.

Kentucky Fried VW (KFV)

We wanted to drive to the Maker’s Mark Distillery however; the distance saddened us. Apparently it is one of the more rurally located distillery’s on the Kentucky “bourbon trail” located in Loretto, KY. We drove towards Loretto but then realized we would not make it on time to see the tour or even visit. We changed our driving course and started towards Nashville, TN. As we drove we entered head-on into real bourbon country, passing Wild Turkey distillery, Four Roses distillery and Buffalo Trace distillery before we settled on visiting Woodford Reserve distillery. The reason why Kentucky is famed for bourbon and race horses is the limestone. It is said to add calcium to the bluegrass (aka. horse food) and the water supply, and allows for a special filtration for whiskey making.

Kentucky skyline

Woodford Reserve Distillery

We missed the guided tour at Woodford Reserve but got to see the video and taste the product. It was well worth the stop.  We learned about the history of the product as well as the basics of making bourbon. James has decided to take up a new hobby of bathtub whiskey bootlegging and Shannon’s grandma, Lois can now rest peacefully in her heaven armchair with her 7 & 7 highball in hand. Outside of the distillery was acre upon acre of short black, doubled fence and beautiful, healthy horses. The doubled fence was so that if a horse jumps a fence gets stuck between fences and is not able to escape. These are the prized horses of Kentucky everyone seemed to be talking about. Hill over rolling hill was horses, black fencing, bluegrass and huge, state of the art barns (I think these barns might be nicer then any house we have ever lived in and some of them were the size of malls).

I think we are starting to understand Wal-Mart better. Maybe besides McDonald’s, Wal-Mart prevails as the most common store. In some of the most rural cities across America, Wal-Mart is the only store and they sell everything under the sun like

Wal-Mart Soda, A L8 1.

electronics, hunting supplies, sewing supplies, gardening tools, toys, clothing, bakery and groceries. In a Kentucky “Superstore” Wal-Mart to my great surprise in the grocery isle they sell organics, soymilk, “ethnic” food and spices like salsa and meat substitutes. This does not mean I like Wal-Mart, by no means so. The violations Wal-Mart has been not held liable for; including the lack of health insurance for employees, slave labor in manufacturing goods in third world countries, religions affiliations and ect. (my list could go on…) and the huge tax cuts the US federal government has given the corporation boggles my mind. But we now understand better how this can happen. If you are poor or if you live in a very rural part of the USA you have little or no choice and no one is challenging Wal-Mart to become more ethical. The unfortunate thing is that religion, politics and ethics don’t always intersect in the United States. Perhaps more good changes could occur if they did?

Chips in Wal-Mart

 

 

 

West Virginia & Kentucky

 

West Virginia wasn’t special. They still mine things and the stripped landscape proves such. Based on the billboards, coal and black lung are a big deal as well as Southern “x-posure” gentleman clubs.

West Virginia Skyline

Gas fluctuated price here greatly (like 40¢ per gallon), our low has been $1.64 per gallon and the high has been the California prices. We underestimated the travel time between Virginia and West Virginia. The Appalachian Mountains were impressively steep. The landscape reminded us of parts of New England, birch trees, hemlock, pines and a ground of grey rocky hills.

 

People smoke cigrettes here. We both forgot how gross it can be to enter a truck stop and smell the years of smoking and stale air. We bought a sticker for Rosie, it has a lizard dressed in sexy lizard clothes and a big red crossed out sign, indicating we do not like lot lizards.

We arrived in Kentucky in the dark, rainy night and pulled into Miguel’s Pizza shop in the small town of Slade, KY.

Natural Bridges State Park, KY

 Unfortunately Miguel’s had closed for the winter so we borrowed the overhang and pulled out our makeshift travel kitchen. We had a nice dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, not quite as exciting as Kentucky pizza but pretty good. We slept in the parking lot and woke in the morning to hike Natural Bridges. This was Shannon’s first natural bridge experience. It had snowed lightly the night before so we had a little ice to deal with but no people around. It was peaceful.

 

 

 

We are off to find the Maker’s Mark Distillery and then Nashville.

(Don’t forget to visit us on Flickr.com for more pics!)